Strength
by MugetsuPipefox
Summary: Set after 'Receipts'. Xion struggles to overcome what happened to her. (Post-KH3, Part 4 of the Seasalt Fam series)


**Yooo! I rewrote this so many times, lads. _So many times_. It still feels a little choppy to me, but it was already _so long_ I didn't want to fill it out more.**

**Anyway, the usual: KH3 spoilers, obviously. Um you can probably read this one without having read the others? Basically it's just Lea, Isa, Xion, and Roxas living together in Twilight Town, slowly healing etc etc. PTSD warning**

**.**

* * *

**Strength**

* * *

.

Xion tucked her blanket more securely around herself, curling up as tightly as she could. This was not the first time she'd woken up crying, but it _was_ the first time since she'd been brought back that she could remember what she'd been dreaming about.

She clasped her shaking hands against her mouth in a desperate attempt to stifle the sobs. She didn't want to wake anyone else; her bedroom was right next to Isa's, and she knew he was a light sleeper. Yet at the same time she wanted nothing more than to have someone wrap their arms around her, to hold her together while she felt like she was breaking apart.

_It's okay. You're okay_, she tried to reassure herself, hugging her arms around her. _You're still alive. It won't happen again._

She was a real person now – she had her own heart and her own memories. She was _real_, even if her body wasn't. They couldn't take that from her again. She didn't have to sacrifice herself anymore.

She was so tired of being scared.

With a stuttering breath, she slipped from beneath the covers. If her heart refused to believe what her head already knew, she would just have to prove it to herself. The dark corridor was a dark stain in her already dim room, but when she stepped out on the other side, she was greeted by the warmth of an eternally setting sun. It never really got dark in Twilight Town; it was a nice change from the World That Never Was, which was never anything but.

Xion stared out at Station Plaza from her place on the steps. There was no one as far as the eye could see; too late in the night for anyone but her to be wandering around. Just as well, she thought. She was still wearing her pyjamas.

It took no effort to pinpoint the exact spot where she'd fallen. There was nothing to mark the place – she'd had even less to leave behind than a Nobody – but that was no obstacle. She remembered.

All she had to do was walk over there. If she could do that, she could reassure herself that it was over.

Xion forced herself to take a step. And then another. And another. But the closer she got, the more her body shook. Her vision blurred as the tears started up again.

"I can do this," she choked around the lump in her throat. She inched closer.

She could still remember how it felt. She could still feel the way her body fractured and faded away. She could still see Roxas' grief-stricken face as he held her until there was nothing left to hold onto.

Xion collapsed to her knees, folding in on herself with shuddering breaths. The Plaza's tiles were solid and warm beneath her bare feet. She opened a corridor around herself, not confident in her ability to stand. She hadn't even made it halfway.

About a week ago, Axel and Isa had sat her down, and told her that Roxas had something called post-traumatic stress disorder. They'd informed her of the triggers they'd noticed, and the ways she could help. And then they'd made her promise to tell them if she found herself with triggers, too.

At the time, she hadn't said anything, but now she wondered if this was what it felt like. Was this PTSD? Was Station Plaza a trigger for her, the way the mansion in the woods was for Roxas?

Xion uncurled from the ball she'd rolled herself into, and immediately recognised the upstairs hallway of home. She could easily see her bedroom door, still closed, at the end. She should just go back to bed. Forget tonight had ever happened. But…

The door to her left was closer.

She knew she was being selfish. She shouldn't disturb him. But she was still crying, and no matter how hard she tried her hands continued to shake. She gently eased open the door.

The room itself was sparse and neat; the exact opposite of what she'd expected when they'd started personalising their rooms. It was almost impersonal, except for the journal she knew he kept stashed under his mattress, and the row of seashells along the desk. According to Isa, they hadn't been people long enough to accumulate any clutter. But Xion had helped him pick out furniture, had watched the way he'd meticulously arranged everything. Maybe they hadn't had the chance to collect a lot of stuff yet, but he was so deliberate in the choices he'd made, she couldn't help but feel there was another reason behind it.

It wasn't too late to just go back to her own room, she reminded herself, even as she crept over to the obscure lump under the sheets. She reached up to wipe a fresh wave of tears from her face, and, before she could talk herself out of it, tugged back a corner of the blanket and burrowed in beside him.

Roxas grunted softly, rolling onto his side. One arm came up to drape over her. She took in his face with blurred eyes, and was immediately disappointed to find him blinking tiredly back at her, brow lightly furrowed. She hadn't intended to wake him.

"Xion?" he asked groggily, words slurring. "You okay?"

Xion forced herself to nod, even though she wasn't. Unfortunately, Roxas wasn't blind. She wondered how she looked to him. Was she as much of a mess as she felt?

"What's wrong?"

She pressed her forehead against his collarbone. She couldn't bring herself to answer. A large part of her wanted to tell him. It would be easier, she thought, to talk with him about it than anyone else. He'd been there with her. He would understand better Axel could. But Axel had also told her that her sacrifice was one of his triggers, and… she couldn't do that to him. Not deliberately. Not again.

"Do you want to talk about it?" he asked, and she felt him rest his chin on the top of her head.

"No," she lied.

"Okay."

"Can I stay here?"

His grip on her tightened a little. He hummed an affirmation, already starting to fall back to sleep, if he'd ever properly woken up at all. She spent the hours until morning listening to his heartbeat, and reminding herself that she had one too.

.

* * *

.

9am was an ungodly hour to be awake, Lea decided. Back when he'd first been assigned babysitting duty, he'd been delighted to learn that Roxas, like him, would happily sleep the whole day away if left to his own devices. It was only thanks to Saïx's endless griping, and the threat of having the Dusks set on you, that either of them managed to get up in time for anything at all. Before long, though, Roxas had transitioned from 'zombie' to 'vaguely sentient', and had become capable of getting himself up in the morning, giving Axel a new motivator. Because if Roxas beat him to the kitchen, he would end up eating ice cream for breakfast. And Axel might not have been very good at babysitting, but he had to draw the line somewhere.

And then Xion had come along, blank and clueless, with a sweet tooth that could rival Roxas'. And she was an early riser.

Lea had missed sleeping in.

It was easier now, since Isa had gotten his heart back. Lea didn't have to worry quite so much about what kind of garbage the kids would feed themselves if he happened to oversleep a little. Isa was the kind of guy who got up before time even started existing for the day, and had a habit of making a cooked breakfast. And if they dragged themselves out of bed early enough, he would cook for them, too. If not, well, ice cream was certainly not on the menu.

All three of them were sitting at the dining table by the time Lea finally managed to drag himself downstairs. Isa had long since finished eating, and was instead nose-deep in a book. There was half a glass of orange juice in front of him (probably freshly squeezed, too; Isa had become such a suburban mom). Roxas, and surprisingly Xion – who normally got up in time for a hot meal – both had bowls of muesli (the most exciting cereal Isa allowed on their shopping list). Roxas was about a third of the way through his, and steadily growing more awake with each bite. Xion looked like she was a few minutes away from falling asleep in hers. They both had bed hair. Or, well, more bed hair than usual, in Roxas' case.

Lea grunted a greeting, and made a beeline for the top cupboard where he'd stashed a box of coco puffs. Normally the sight of Forbidden Sugar would strike up protests all-round, but when he turned to grab a spoon, all he got was Isa's signature glare; Xion was mere inches from drowning in her bowl, and Roxas was too busy excavating the energy to live from his to even notice.

"Rough night?" he asked.

Xion jolted slightly, like Doctor Finkelstein had just reanimated her from a corpse he'd dug up out back. "Didn't sleep well."

Roxas made a noise that could have meant anything, but that was pretty normal pre-breakfast behaviour for him.

"Why don't you go back to bed for a while?" Lea took his seat at the table, spoonful of sugary goodness already halfway to his mouth.

Xion made a face that was somewhere between a grimace and a smile. "We promised Hayner, Pence, and Olette we'd go to the open-air cinema with them today."

Ah yes, the local trio who loved his kids but had a personal vendetta against him. He'd suggest she skip out and spend the day watching movies with him on the couch instead, but he was pretty sure Hayner was looking for an excuse to beat him up with a struggle bat, and he wasn't eager to give him a reason.

Still, at this rate she wasn't going to stay awake long enough to get there.

With a resigned sigh, Lea reached across the table, snatching her bowl and sliding his own over in its place.

"Lea," Isa said. It was more than enough to convey exactly how he felt about Lea's continued undermining of his life's mission to improve their diet.

"She looks like she just went up against a Leech Grave," he protested. "Let her have some sugar."

"A low GI food would be better suited to–"

"She wasn't eating it anyway," Lea rolled his eyes. He punctuated his words with a bite of muesli that he almost immediately regretted. It'd gone soggy. He considered dumping it and getting more coco puffs, but Isa might actually retaliate if he did. It wasn't worth the risk.

Xion did, at least, actually make an effort to eat, though it was likely more out of misplaced guilt for him having sacrificed it rather than an actual desire for food. But by the time she was finished, she did look a little less dead. Lea would take the small victory for what it was.

Isa was the first to leave the table – off to do who knows what – followed not long after by an almost-awake Roxas. Xion didn't appear to have noticed them go.

"You wanna talk about it?" Lea asked, once it was just the two of them. He twirled his spoon through the papier-mâché his stolen cereal had become and tried not to make eye contact. She was usually more willing to talk if you stared her down and forced it out of her, but in this case he had a feeling that would be counterproductive.

He watched her fidget in his peripheral vision. "It was just a bad dream," she confessed at length.

Lea very much doubted it was 'just' anything. He looked up at her. "About?"

She met his gaze, only to immediately break eye contact in favour of staring at the dregs of milk in the bottom of her bowl. She didn't say anything.

"You don't have to tell me," he said carefully. "But you _can_ if you want to. Or even Isa, if you want. Or someone else. You don't have to bottle it up. Got it memorised?"

Her posture sagged a little, but she'd somehow found a way to make the act of relaxing look stressful.

"You're not alone, Xion."

"I know," she whispered.

.

* * *

.

Xion hadn't expected that they'd be walking to Tram Common. She'd been fully prepared to just use the corridors to meet them by the cinema. Instead, Hayner, Pence, and Olette had surprised them by coming to Sunset Terrace to get them.

She wasn't the only one caught off-guard. Roxas had been visibly surprised when Axel had called them down to find their friends on the doorstep. He'd recovered a lot faster than she had, though. Maybe because he wasn't spending the entire walk to the station trying not to panic.

No corridors meant they were going to have to go through Station Plaza. And she already knew she wasn't going to be able to do it.

Roxas kept casting her concerned glances the entire train ride. Xion was secretly grateful that Pence's excited explanation about the movie they were going to see was enough that he couldn't ask her what was wrong without unwanted attention.

When they reached Central Station, Hayner, Pence, and Olette pushed through the doors into the Plaza without stopping. Xion's feet refused to go further than a metre from the exit. In the corner of her eye, she saw Roxas stop beside her.

"You two coming, or what?" Hayner called, holding the door open a little wider in emphasis.

Xion wondered how they would react if she just opened a corridor. Roxas had once said that they wouldn't really mind, but he'd gone weirdly quiet afterwards, so she wasn't sure how true it was. She was starting to think it might be worth the risk, though.

"Um," Roxas took a step forward. Paused. Looked back at her. His expression was strained.

"Is something wrong?" Pence asked.

Xion looked over his shoulder at the red sky. She brought her hands up to hug herself.

Roxas bit his lip, gaze darting from her, to their friends, to the train still stopped behind him. "I, um, I think I left something at home. How about we meet you there?"

For a moment, it looked like they were going to call him out on the obvious lie, and Xion braced herself to offer up a vague explanation. But, then, they shared a silent conversation, and Olette shrugged.

"Okay," she said. "But the movie starts in twenty minutes. Don't be late!"

"We won't."

It was only a nudge from Roxas that got her moving again, this time back onto the train. As soon as the Plaza disappeared from view, Xion collapsed heavily into one of the seats. Roxas sagged against the wall. They were alone in the carriage.

"Are you okay?"

"Sorry," she murmured.

He frowned, confused. "For what?"

For a lot of things. "For making you make an excuse for me."

Roxas opened his mouth to say something, only to cut himself off before he could begin with a subtle shake of his head. "You looked scared. Like you did last night."

So he did remember, then. Xion pulled her knees up to her chin.

"Is it because of…?" His voice had gone quiet, but she still couldn't bring herself to look at him.

"I keep dreaming about it," she confessed, voice as thin as paper. Her eyes welled with tears. "And the Plaza… it's like… l-like I'm there again." She hid her face in her knees so he wouldn't see her cry. She hated how weak she felt. Her strength had always been borrowed.

"I'm sorry," Roxas breathed. She jerked her head back up, alarmed by how shaky he sounded. He had started crying, too. "Xion, I'm sorry. It's my fault you… I didn't– I'm _so sorry_."

"No," she managed, shaking her head, because no matter how broken she was, she would never let herself regret what she'd done. She'd never let him blame himself for what had happened. "No, it was my decision. It wasn't your fault." Xemnas may have forced her to act, but the outcome had been of her own design. She'd been planning it long before he'd intervened.

"I could've… I could've chosen not to fight! I could've–!" He broke off, voice hitching. "You shouldn't have had to _die_!"

She could barely see him through her own tears. "I didn't want to die," she whispered. She'd wanted so desperately to live. But when it came down to it, she'd wanted Roxas to live more.

"Then _why?!"_

"Because we couldn't both exist."

Eventually, she would have entirely absorbed him, or he would have absorbed her. They'd spent so long on a knife's edge. It was inevitable that they'd lose their balance. She knew Roxas knew that. And Sora had needed the memories she'd stolen from him, but she couldn't quite bring herself to admit as much out loud. Not to Roxas, at least, who had only recently stopped resenting him.

"Then it should have been me!" Roxas countered, straightening to his full height so quickly that Xion flinched in surprise. "Why did it… Why did it have to be you?!"

The train jerked as it started pulling away from the platform. Neither of them noticed.

She didn't know how to tell him everything she was feeling. She'd struggled for so long, all because she hadn't _wanted_ it to be him. She was a puppet, a reflection of someone who technically wasn't even supposed to exist. What right did she have, to claim his life on top of everything else she had already taken?

Xion stood unsteadily, staggered the few steps separating them, and all but fell into a fierce hug. There was no doubt in her mind that had he not been kept in the dark like he was, he would have ensured that it had been him in her place. And she never would have forgiven herself for it.

"Roxas, I was just a puppet–"

"You're _not a puppet!_" he held her tighter. "You're _you!_ You've _always_ been you! Not me, or Sora, or Kairi. You've got your own heart."

She could feel it, pounding away in her chest. Maybe… Maybe he was right. Maybe she'd been defying their plans for her since the very beginning. From what she'd read in Vexen's research notes, they hadn't intended for the replicas to develop a sense of self. And she'd certainly done that. But, really, what she was didn't change anything.

"It still had to be me," she said, voice muffled by his shoulder.

"_Why?_"

She stepped back, forcing herself to look him in the eye. "Because I didn't want it to be you."

.

* * *

.

They ended up being late for the movie. Hayner had turned to them as they'd slunk in, ready to chew them out, but he'd taken one look at their poor attempts to hide that they'd been crying, and shifted so that they could sit between him and Olette.

.

* * *

.

Roxas turned in a slow circle where he was standing in the middle of Station Plaza. He'd been nervous, when he had expected to walk through it with Xion the other day. But when she wasn't there, neither was the anxiety. Somehow it was easier, when she wasn't right beside him to remind him of what had happened here. It also probably helped that he'd been through the Plaza enough times in the fake Twilight Town that he had other, newer memories he could focus on. Like the crawling sensation he got every time he walked up the station steps, as if someone was waiting in the shadows to mug him.

(…In hindsight, there was really only one person he could think of that could have been the culprit. He made a mental note to get his munny back the next time he saw Riku.)

He turned his attention skyward. The clock tower. They'd been living in Twilight Town for twenty-three days now. So far none of them had even hinted at going up there.

"_There_ you are! I've been looking everywhere for you!"

Roxas pivoted, easily spotting Hayner emerging from Market Street. He was a little out of breath, as though he'd been running.

"Sorry?"

Hayner waved the apology off. "Olette's taking Xion shopping or something, so I figured we could go grab Pence and do something, too."

Roxas glanced back up at the clock tower. It would probably do him good to let himself be distracted for a while.

"Do you wanna go up there?" Hayner asked, following his gaze.

"I can't."

"Yes you can. The steps are inside," he gestured at Central Station. "Come on, I'll show you."

"No, I meant…" He trailed off with a sigh. He didn't really know why he couldn't.

Hayner was staring at him, like he was trying to figure something out. "What's wrong?"

"Huh?"

"You've been kinda weird recently. Weirder than normal, anyway," he shrugged. "Xion, too. We're not blind, you know. We know something's been bothering you."

Had they really been that obvious?

"So come on," he said. "Spill."

It was hard enough talking about it to the people who were actually involved. Roxas didn't think he could explain it properly to someone who didn't even know half of it.

"We're your friends, Roxas. You know you can trust us, right?"

Roxas studied him. He _did_ trust them. But that didn't make it any easier. "It's just… the last few times I went up there, a lot of… a lot of bad things happened." He'd lost Xion. He'd thought he'd lost Axel, too. "It feels like… like if I go back up there, it'll happen again."

Hayner was silent for a long moment. "Do you _want_ to go back up there?"

"Yes."

"Then let's go!" he grinned. "I'll come with you. To make sure you don't fall."

Falling was the least of his worries. In all the times he'd gone up there, he'd only fallen once. And technically that hadn't even happened.

"We don't even have to sit down or anything," Hayner continued when Roxas gave no indication of agreeing. "And as soon as you want to leave we can."

Roxas still hesitated. It would probably be easier than going alone – and definitely easier than if he tried with Axel or Xion – but what if…? He didn't want to lose Hayner the way he'd lost Xion and Axel. It felt too much like tempting fate.

"You'll never go back up there if you don't try, right?"

He had a point. He'd been telling himself for the past three weeks that he was going to go back up there, and then had done absolutely nothing about it. So far the worst thing that had happened was when Axel had tried to cook them dinner and had ended up setting the stove on fire.

_Xemnas is gone_, he reminded himself. And Sora had saved them. They were allowed to exist on their own terms now. They had hearts.

"Okay," he finally relented, and hoped he wasn't making a mistake.

It wasn't the right time for sunset yet, but in this world it could be hard to tell the difference. Twilight Town stretched out towards them, exactly as he remembered it. His heart ached.

He couldn't bring himself to sit down, but Hayner didn't push him. One day, he'd come up here again with Axel and Xion, and they'd sit right there and eat ice cream, just like they used to. For today, though, with Hayner's shoulder brushing his, this was enough.

He'd had two 'last times' on this clock tower. Now the 'first times' outnumbered them.

.

* * *

.

Of the four of them, Isa was the least inclined to use the dark corridors. Perhaps it was some lingering, sub-conscious fear that if he exposed himself to too much darkness, with or without protective garments, it would invite it back and he would lose himself again. Or maybe it was concern for how the locals would react if they saw such a casual display of blatantly unnatural forces. If asked, however, he would simply say he enjoyed the walk. He'd found himself enjoying the mundane things that had become impractical as a Nobody – the things he'd never really appreciated before he'd lost the chance to.

Lea, on the other hand, practically flaunted his ability to use them. Possibly because they afforded him a greater opportunity for laziness. Or because they were convenient and time-saving. Or maybe there was another, more complex reason. Sometimes it was hard to tell with him. Once, Isa had been able to know instinctively which it was. But that had been a long time ago. This Lea was not the same as the one he'd grown up with. Just as he was not the same Isa. That much was to be expected, though, after a decade of growing apart.

As for the children, well, he couldn't really fault them for their flippant use of the corridors. They'd never known a life where such a thing wasn't commonplace. To them, a gummiship must have been a rather novel concept. Staying on one world must sound like torture.

And speaking of children…

Isa came to a slow halt at the top of Market Street as he caught sight of a familiar figure loitering at the edge of the Plaza. Surprisingly, she hadn't heard him approach, despite his making no effort to conceal his presence.

"Xion."

Xion startled, spinning around so quickly that her hair whipped her in the face. For the entire year she'd been the Organization's number fourteen, all Saïx had seen when he'd looked at her had been a faceless doll playing dress-up. According to Vexen, her appearance had changed depending on the observer's connection to Sora. It was hardly a surprise, then, that he had seen nothing, or that Roxas and Axel had seen her for who she was – a girl who strongly resembled both Kairi and Naminé. And if they had truly seen a person the entire time instead of a broken puppet, it really was no wonder they had hated him. He could hardly fault them for it.

"Isa!" Xion gasped. "I was just…" she glanced back at the Plaza, "heading home."

Isa recalled her having mentioned that she would be spending the day with one of the friends she and Roxas had made. Olette, he believed her name was. It was good that they'd found some friends their own age – or perceived age, anyway. It would do them good to interact with people who weren't Lea or various iterations of themselves.

Xion had taken his concern about thoughtless use of the corridors more seriously than the other two, but it was still strange for her to elect to walk, when she'd previously been more inclined to just find somewhere more sheltered to open one. He noted the way she was fidgeting, and studiously avoiding his eye. Whatever was wrong, she didn't want him to ask.

"I'm heading back as well," he said instead, gesturing with the bags of groceries he was carrying. "Would you care to walk with me?"

She had not expected the offer, if the expression on her face was any indicator, and for a moment he was sure she would refuse. But, then, a small smile crept onto her face. "Okay."

Isa stepped out into the Plaza. He'd made it all of five steps before he realised she wasn't following. A glance back over his shoulder confirmed that she hadn't budged.

"Is something wrong?" he asked.

Xion stood tensely, eyes darting briefly to a space somewhere in front of him. But when he followed her gaze, he couldn't see anything that would warrant such anxiety.

"I…" A pause. Hesitation. She looked… scared. Of the Plaza? Or something else?

"Did something happen here?" He'd suspected she might develop symptoms of PTSD. Her short life had certainly been traumatic, to say the least.

Xion flinched. "How did you…?"

It had been obvious. Roxas had reacted very similarly when Isa had suggested they take up residence in the mansion. Similar, too, to the way Lea reacted whenever any of them were more than two minutes later than they said they would be.

So why had she decided not to use a corridor? Was this some sort of attempt to overcome her fear?

"It's alright to be afraid."

Xion wrung her hands together. "I don't want to be."

"Recovery is easier if you let people help you." Actually asking for help was one of the hardest steps. He felt like a hypocrite.

Xion stared at a point somewhere just to the left of his face. "Can I… hold your hand?"

He was surprised, more than anything, that she would even _want_ to. But, then, he supposed fear made people behave strangely. He shifted the bags he was holding to free one hand, and held it out for her to take. She reached out to him, but still didn't cross the threshold.

"Would it help if you closed your eyes?" he suggested.

She tried it, brow lightly furrowed. "A little," she said after a moment.

"Then keep them closed." And he gently tugged her forward. Her breath hitched.

"Don't… Don't let me walk into anything. And don't let go. Promise."

"I promise."

He could feel her trembling. Her jaw was clenched tightly. If he released her hand now, he knew without a doubt that she would never trust him again.

"You spent the day with Olette, correct?"

"Y-Yes."

Another step.

"What did you do?"

"We… She showed me her favourite shops. And, and we had lunch at the… at the bistro."

Another step. She twitched, like she was going to pull away. Isa tightened his grip and coaxed her further forward. They were already halfway.

"I-Isa?"

"Yes?"

"Are you scared of anything?"

That was a very long list. He was scared of losing his heart again. He was scared that Lea would change his mind about him. He was scared that he'd never be able to make amends for the things he'd done. "Lots of things."

"Like… Like what?" She exhaled heavily, and her voice shook with the promise of tears. Her grip on his hand was painful in its intensity. But they were almost there.

"If I tell you, you have to swear not to tell anyone."

"…I promise."

"Cockroaches," he said. "Careful. There are steps here."

"What's a cockroach?" She cautiously tested each step as she inched her way up.

"It's a type of insect."

"Oh." They'd reached the top step. Isa eased open the station door. "Why?"

"It's irrational; there is no reason." He guided her gently to a stop just inside the station doors. "You can open your eyes now."

Her eyes were wet – as he'd suspected – but they lit up as she stared at the waiting train. "I did it," she whispered, turning to face the Plaza.

"You did," Isa agreed.

"I did it! Thank you, Isa!"

It would probably take her a long time before she could walk through on her own, with eyes wide open, but it was a start, and it had given her hope that it was possible. That was more than enough for one day.


End file.
